


The Skeleton in the Cupboard

by CassieIngaben



Category: Eroica Yori Ai o Komete | From Eroica with Love
Genre: Funny, Gen, Halloween, Horror, Humor, M/M, Meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:55:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27306646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassieIngaben/pseuds/CassieIngaben
Summary: Not quite Narnia.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 9
Collections: From Eroica With Love - Groups Challenges





	The Skeleton in the Cupboard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [isindismay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/isindismay/gifts).



Bonham looked at the kitchen wall calendar and grinned. There, just between the splayed legs of a vintage Tom of Finland leatherman, the date stood out in chunky digits Dorian once had proclaimed to be in Tokerud font. Which surely must have been his reason for getting that particular calendar. 

Pumping his fist in the air, Bonham hooted: “Yesss! The 31st of October! Samhain! All Hallows' Eve! Dia de los muertos! Halloween-- “

_No. Wait. Halloween’s been cancelled because of the plague. Oops._

Crestfallen, he turned, and almost bumped into James. He snapped: “What are you smirking about?”

James smirked harder. “On Halloween, Lord Gloria always spends oodles of money on ridiculous costumes--well, more ridiculous--and goes trick or treating at Castle Eberbach. Flying first class. Flying back with the costliest steak over his black eye. Making up for it by buying all sorts of ridiculous Halloween decorations. He even bought a real skeleton! Do you know how much a real skeleton costs?”

Bonham sighed. “No. But I’m sure you’ll tell me.” And then added quickly, as James’s lower lip started to wobble in preparation for a screeching wail, “No, don’t tell me! I really don’t want to know!” 

James hiccupped, took out a large, patchy handkerchief and blew his nose messily. Then he shrugged. “It’s ok. I found a use for it, so at least it’s not going to end up at the tip once Lord Gloria gets tired of it.” 

“A use? Uh… I’m not sure I want to know--”

James rose to his full height, and stared straight ahead. “It’s in my room. It makes it scary, so I can be miserable whenever I want.” 

Bonham pinched the bridge of his nose. “Right. Of course. Why didn’t I think of that.” 

“You’re just jealous I have a skeleton and you don’t.”

“Actually--”

A thunderclap interrupted him. Torrential rain hit the window, and lightning streaked the night sky. James covered his head with his arms and whimpered. "I—I'm scared of thunder! Oh please, help—"

"Come off it, mate. The Boss saw through that trick ages ago. You're not getting any that way."

James huffed and let his arms drop. "Spoilsport. I'm off to my room. The skeleton will make me die of fright, and then you'll be sorry." He looked at Bonham's expression. "Or maybe not. Right, I'm off anyway."

* * *

On balance, James's odds were on death by frostbite rather than fright, his room was that cold. He mewled piteously, then he pulled himself together. No. He needed to be alive to be miserable! He wrapped himself in his most moth-ridden blanket—he needed a treat—and set out a fresh bucket for the leak that only sprang on special occasions. The ruinously expensive, and now discarded trick or treat bucket was at least proving useful. Then he smiled at the skeleton taking pride of place in its stand, and opened his favourite vintage ledger for some light reading before bed. 1988 had been an especially good fiscal year.

It was almost midnight, and James was awakened by a creaking noise. He lifted his head from the desk and wiped his hand across his mouth—he had to do something about drooling in his sleep, he always ruined the ledger he fell asleep over—then he peered in the darkness. As his eyes got used to the obscurity, he could discern the skeleton's outline, bones faintly white against the darkness. Nothing else stirred.

James shrugged. Time for bed—the sheets should be dank enough by now. The creaking returned. James caught a movement at the corner of his eye. He whirled around. And stared. The skeleton was creeping towards the pitiful cupboard doubling as James's wardrobe, longing writ large in each bone of its body.

In dread, James blurted out: "You moved! I saw you move!"

The Skeleton huffed, and threw its arms in the air with a mighty creak. "You try and move stealthily on skeletal joints!"

James went as pale as bones.

"Will you _please_ not faint? Really, you Livey are all the same."

"You—you are—alive?"

"Sooo predictable. You faint. You ask stupid questions. Come on, scream now. Or run, whichever you want to do first. I'm worn to the bones with you Breathers."

"But-but-but—"

"Ah yes, how can I forget the inarticulate babbling." The Skeleton sighed—or approximated a sigh, given the absence of lungs.

James opened his mouth. Then he closed it again, rubbed his hands together and cackled. The Skeleton startled and looked wary as James advanced towards it.

"A talking, moving skeleton would fetch a fortune. Scientists. Circuses. Necrophiliacs."

The Skeleton retreated. "Wait! Don't you want to ask in hushed tones why I'm here?"

"Uhm. Not really. I mean, it's interesting, but I have priorities."

Panic dawned on the Skeleton's empty eye sockets, and he spoke very quickly. "I can satisfy your heart's desire—I know your deep, dark secrets—in the cupboard, you see—but I must—I need to go back before midnight—in the cupboard, that is—know thy place and all that—"

James did a double-take. "My deep, dark secrets? My heart's desire?"

"That's right. You can have one wish."

"One? Not three?"

"One."

"Two."

"One."

"Two, and I'll throw in lubricant for your joints."

"You drive a hard bargain, Livey."

James looked pleased. "Why, thank you. I try my best. And it's my job. Well, my life. Anyway. Two, and strawberry-flavoured lubricant."

"I can only grant one wish!" The Skeleton snapped. "If you really want to know, I'm a Second-rate Apparition. I'm assigned a grotty place to live, I get no gadgets, and I only have one wish. There. My own deep, dark secret. I'm a Skeleton in the cupboard."

"Really?"

"Really. I died peacefully after a very boring, uneventful life as an accountant. No scare capital accrued."

James looked confused. "Uneventful? But the exhilaration of extra expenses; the vertigo of balancing budgets—" He shook his head. "You're trying to distract me with obvious lies. But I'm not falling for it."

The Skeleton hung its head. "I can only grant one wish. I swear. Do you think I wouldn't love to have more? It's humiliating—"

James sat on the bed. A tear slowly welled from his eye. "I can't."

"Sorry?"

"I can't choose. I need all three."

"OK, I can see you're one of those 'greed is good' types and all that, but—"

"Don't you get it?" James wailed. "My life is tragic! Do you think I enjoy being a laughingstock? Always scrimping—one suit, one eye, one obsession--always wanting what I don't have—always lacking, lacking, lacking—" He stopped and gave a tremulous sniff. "I don't even have any dignity."

"Uhm. Do you want dignity, then? It's not the easiest wish to fulfil, but—"

James stood up, fists clenched. "I want money! I want Lord Gloria to love me! I want that German military machine to disappear!"

The Skeleton looked completely out of its depth. "I'm sorry. I mean, I'd love to help—as a fellow accountant, well ex-fellow—"

"You're useless! You're just a heap of old bones Lord Gloria bought as a novelty item—"

The rusty, skip-scavenged grandfather clock wheezed out the twelve strokes of midnight. The Skeleton gave a defeated sound, and fell apart.

"Oops." James looked at the heap of bones. "You did say you had to go before midnight. I'm sorry. Well, a little sorry, and just because we were colleagues. Ex-colleagues. I hope you don't mind if I resell you for dog food? I'm sure you can understand. I have to recoup the money Lord Gloria spent on you—"

The cupboard door slammed open, and a tall figure in a flowing white dress appeared.

"Milord!?"

The figure shook his head. "Nope, sorry. I'm the AU Fairy. I know the uniform is confusing, the Fairy Union's been making the point for ages, but--"

"Who?"

"Never mind. I've come to take the Skeleton back into the cupboard. Genre rules. It was supposed to be the Horror Story Fairy's job, but she's extra busy tonight, and we're very close friends, so I thought I'd help—"

James moved in front of the Skeleton's bones, arms out. "It's mine. Finder's fee."

"Look, I don't have time for this—"

The belligerent glint in James's eye was plain to see.

The AU Fairy shrugged. "As they say, pick your battles. How about I grant you three wishes."

"Do you have three?"

"Of course I do! I'm all powerful."

James's eye went a startling dollar-green. "I want to be rich! I want to have Lord Gloria's unconditional love! I want the German NATO Major never to have existed!"

The AU Fairy shrugged. "Fine." She raised her wand, and proffered her incantation. "AO3AO3AO3!"

Reality shifted and reformed. James smiled the first genuinely happy smile of his life.

The AU Fairy shuddered. Then she went past a still-enraptured James and sat on the ground next to the Skeleton's bones. She pulled out a large tub of glue, pliers and wire, and went to work. "At least the Horror Story Fairy will be grateful. I unleashed a true nightmare."

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a blurb for the Skeleton Story challenge 2020 on the groups.io Eroica mailing list—now expanded and rewritten into a standalone story. Needless to say: crack, and speed-written to finish it in time for Halloween. Thanks to my excellent beta isindismay for the swift turnaround!


End file.
